Anika, the newly minted goddess of war, made her way onto the private train bound for Placida. She was still in her formal regalia as she was sure the lord governor would find out she was on her way and set up a greeting committee. She groaned at the thought of more public appearances. The black and green war paint she wore made her flame-red hair blaze in stark contrast. As she boarded, she noticed a tall, lean man reclining in one of the few luxury seats aboard, reading a file. At first, all she could make out was a standard field uniform and standard short-cropped brown hair, but just as she was about to question who he was, the man lowered his file. Anika snapped to attention. “Commander!” “At ease, ‘General’ Anika,” came the slightly sarcastic baritone voice. “we know each other better than that. If you are ready, tell the conductor that we are ready to leave, then have a seat.” “Yes, sir!” said Anika, snapping another salute, her tone full of re
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